


I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You)

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Barista Louis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flowers, Healing, Hope, M/M, Pining, Secret Admirer, heartbroken louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.





	I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from “Nightingale” by Demi Lovato. 
> 
> Thank you to Michelle, an amazing beta and an even better cheerleader and friend.
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Hope". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_hope/works), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works) or find the masterpost for this year’s challenge here.

His fingers strum a blue melody on his borrowed guitar as he tries to put into words all the feelings that make up the hurricane that is thrashing around in his chest. Words don’t come, never come when he wants them to, but his fingers know just the right strings to pull to put them into a story without words. Any stray soul passing by will know the vacancy in his chest where his heart used to be. They’ll know that there’s a trail of shattered pieces leading back to the flat he used to share with the man who broke it. They’ll know even without seeing the tears on his cheeks that he’s a bruised, tattered, damaged shadow of his former self. They’ll know the way he feels in this very moment, how he believes his faith in happiness, beauty, love might never be restored.

Sitting outside the café where he works as he strums through his pain on his ever-shortening break, he’s so intent on his song that he misses the boy staring from the door of the flower shop across the street. A boy that hears his song like the call of a siren and wants nothing more in that instant than to give him a reason to change his tune.

 

@}———

 

It’s funny how quickly and easily a plan falls into place in Harry’s mind to make the boy with the sad song find a reason to smile. Of course, given where he works, it’s no surprise that it starts with a flower. A lily-of-the-valley to be exact. He thinks it’s fitting. Harry has always loved them for the meaning they carry: a return to happiness.

Harry watches clandestinely from the window of his shop as the boy arrives the next morning to find the flower and a note taped to the door of his workplace. He sees the boy read the note and look around, confusion clear on his features as he searches for someone hiding in the shadows. The boy seems a tad tentative as though he thinks that maybe it’s a joke at his expense. Deciding that no one is around he turns back to unlock the door, slipping inside to put his things down before he goes back to cautiously remove the flower and note.

Watching carefully through the café windows from his own, Harry can’t help feeling a sense of accomplishment when he sees the boy bring a vase out of the back room and sink the stalk of blossoms in, placing the blooms on display on the counter before getting to work.

 

@}———

 

Niall notices right away when he arrives to work half an hour before the morning rush.

“What’s with the flower, Lou?” He asks curiously as he ties on his apron.

Louis shrugs, not wanting to make it a big deal even though he’s been thinking about it all morning.

“Found it taped to the door when I got here,” he answers as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“Really?” Niall laughs, his warm chuckle full of sunshine. “Did all the doors along the street have them? Maybe the flower shop across the way’s trying a promotional thing?”

And, well, Louis didn’t think of that. But no. The note would suggest otherwise.

“I doubt it,” Louis answers, reluctantly throwing the note he’s kept in his apron pocket all morning onto the counter in front of his smiling friend.

Niall looks at the card questioningly before picking it up and reading the words scrawled in fancy cursive writing.

‘To the boy who plays lovely, melancholy songs. What I wouldn’t give to see you smile. xx’

If Louis had thought that Niall would take the piss, he was wrong.

“That’s nice, Lou,” Niall comments quietly, handing the card back with a tentative smile.

Louis sort of hates the way that Niall treats him now. Before, Niall would have been laughing. Loud and boisterous about the fact that Louis seems to have a secret admirer. He’d have said as such in an annoying sing-song voice and patted Louis’ cheeks when he couldn’t keep from blushing. But it’s different now. Niall knows how broken Louis is, fragile and unsure about the simplest things. Things he was sure he had figured out only a few days ago but now seem far too uncertain to put any kind of faith in.

“They’re not wrong though,” Niall adds laying a hand on Louis shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze. “You should smile more.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Louis answers dryly before tucking the card back into his pocket and getting back to work.

And though he doesn’t smile, not once the whole day, he might, maybe feel like smiling. Just a bit.

 

@}------

 

Things are getting a bit embarrassing. Because as the number of notes and flowers Louis finds at and around the café increase, he becomes ever more certain that it is, in fact, Niall leaving them for him.

Niall’s had this gleam in his eyes lately. And he’s been smiling entirely too much. Every time Louis asks him about it though, he looks abashed and says it’s nothing and that he doesn’t know what Louis is talking about.

It was nice, at first, finding a note on the door of the shop telling him how lovely his eyes are, turning around to clean the back counter after a customer has gone only to turn back around and find a yellow rose in the tip jar. But now, realizing that it’s probably just his best mate’s way of making him feel not quite so lonely, Louis is starting to feel a bit like a loser.

So on Friday, eleven days after the first flower showed up in Louis’ life, Louis stills when he finds a beautiful sterling rose on the door of the café when he arrives. His body is stiff as he steps forward to read the attached note that’s in the same lovely, cursive script as all the others.

‘You’ll find a way through the dark. xx’

The words hit him harder than any others. Because the thing is, Louis has been trapped in a darkness he can’t seem to shake. A darkness he thought he’d been hiding pretty well.

He wants to be angry. He wants to take the note and the stunning blossom and rip them to shreds to alleviate some of the desperation that has made a home just beneath his ribcage. But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to lessen the small amount of beauty that still manages to find its way into his world. So, just as cautiously as every time before, he takes down the flower and the note and carries them into work with him.

When Niall comes in, Louis confronts him, throwing the note on the counter in front of the boy.

“You can stop now. It was a nice thought, Niall, but I’m fine. I promise,” Louis tells him.

Niall looks down at the folded note and back up at Louis, utterly confused.

“What are you talking about, Lou?” Niall asks as he picks up the note, reading it silently before his eyes return to Louis. “You think I’m leaving these?”

“Well, aren’t you?” Louis questions, exasperation coloring his tone. “Half the time I turn around for a second, just one second, and when I turn back there’s a new one. Who else could it be?”

“Hell, I don’t know, Lou. But it isn’t me, I swear,” Niall promises as he makes his way around the counter to grab his apron and tie it on.

Louis stands stunned, staring after Niall as he heads into the back. If it isn’t Niall, then who the hell is it?

 

@}-------

 

Louis makes it his mission to figure out what’s going on. He keeps a watchful eye over his surroundings, refusing to turn his back to the front of the store. He watches everyone who enters and leaves with the suspicion of one searching for a thief rather than a secret admirer.

Near the end of his shift, Louis finally gives up with a sigh. The most suspicious thing to happen all day was a very jumpy Liam Payne ordering two coffees instead of one and knocking over a chair as he’d left. But Liam had started seeing someone only a week earlier and Louis knows how the boy lets his nerves get to him at the start of a relationship so he doesn’t think much of it.

At the end of his shift, he grabs a to-go cup and makes himself a tea without paying.

“It’s not a five finger discount you get for working here,” Niall tells him as he sets his drink down long enough to rid himself of his apron and throw it on the hook he always leaves it on.

“I know,” Louis says, giving Niall a wry grin. “It’s a Nialler-loves-me-and-wants-me-to-be-happy discount.”

Niall scoffs but pulls out his own wallet and pays for the tea while shaking his head. “If it were anyone else…” he mumbles to himself loudly.

Louis wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulder. “Love you, too, pal,” he says, giving Niall a squeeze and then swatting his arse as he passes to pick his drink back up and collect his flower-of-the-day on his way out.

“Nice to see you getting back to your old self,” Niall calls before Louis’ out the door.

He stops suddenly once he’s outside, Niall’s words bouncing around in his head. He feels a little bit like his old self. Just a smidge.

It’s nice.

Louis’ about to turn left and head home to his new flat. It’s small, lonely, and he kind of hates going home to all that empty space but it’s four in the afternoon and the only friends he didn’t lose after his recent break-up are all working or in classes. He eyes the busy street, gaze drifting from the grocery to the Thai restaurant at the corner before they come to a rest on the flower shop just across the street.

His feet start walking in that direction before he’s even consciously made the decision to go.

 

@}-------

 

Harry hears the bell ring out front and calls out a quick “be right there” as he finishes the flower arrangement he’s working on. He carries it out with him to put on display but has to set it down on the counter to keep from dropping it when he sees who’s in his shop.

“Hi,” he says to the beautiful boy from the cafe. His voice sounds breathy even to his own ears but he does his best to act normal. “Can I help you find something?”

“Maybe,” the boy says, the look in his eyes calculating. “Do you know anything about this?” He asks, placing the sterling rose Harry had left for him that morning on the countertop.

Harry picks the rose up slowly, studying it like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Um, it’s a sterling rose. They’re beautiful but a bit of a challenge to grow unless you’re an experienced gardener. When someone gives you a rose this color, it usually means you’ve enchanted them.” His eyes flick to the other boy’s and away again when he finds him staring back. He sets the rose back down carefully and pulls his hands back to himself. “Or maybe it’s just because it’s pretty. Not everyone pays attention to what they mean.”

“So, if they’re a challenge to grow, does that mean that they’re hard to find?” The boys asks, glancing around the shop. Harry knows the second he finds what he’s looking for. He walks over to the glass-doored refrigerator filled with roses and opens it, caressing a lavender petal with his fingertips before turning back to Harry. “Are they rare?”

Harry stops following the boy, standing a few feet away. He hadn’t meant to follow, it had just kind of happened. Harry clears his throat before answering. “Not really. Any flower vendor worth his salt can get his hands on some. If you really want them.”

“’Worth his salt’?” The boys asks, raising a brow at him, the corner of his lips raising into what could almost be called a smirk. “Did I step back in time to ancient Rome?”

Harry scratches the back of his neck, feeling caught out and embarrassed but also giddy that he nearly caused a smile. So, maybe he’s read a few too many historical romances lately. “What? Do people not get paid in salt anymore?” Harry jokes to try and hide his awkwardness. “I’m seriously going to have to talk to my manager about this.”

And there it is, the smile Harry’s been searching for. It only barely reaches the boy’s eyes, but it’s there, lighting them up if only with a small spark of amusement. “You definitely should…,” he reaches out to tweak Harry’s nametag as he reads it, “Harry.”

Harry smiles bashfully and looks at the ground. It’s covered in fallen leaves and withered petals. He should really sweep those up when he gets a moment. Glancing back up at the boy, Harry finds that amused gaze still studying him. “What’s your name?” He asks boldly, nearly cringing from the question immediately after, afraid of giving away how much he actually cares to find out the answer.

“Do you make it habit to learn all of your customers’ names?” The boy asks instead of answering.

“I do my best,” Harry says with what he hopes appears to be a casual shrug. “I’m pretty good at remembering.”

The boy stares for a moment, assessing Harry before apparently deciding that it’s safe to give away his name. “Louis,” he says, so quietly that Harry has to strain to hear it.

“Louis,” Harry repeats, a strange sense of relief comforting his soul to the very core at the knowledge. “I’ll definitely remember that.”

Louis grins, looking away from Harry and shaking his head as though silently refuting the statement. He bites his lip and then moves around Harry to retrieve his flower. “Well, uh, thanks for the information,” he says, giving a shy, stilted wave as he heads for the door.

“Anytime,” Harry replies, watching Louis leave his shop. He waves when Louis turns to glance back over his shoulder. And then he doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

@}-------

 

Louis doesn’t know what he expected when he went into the flower shop, but it definitely wasn’t what he found. A shy boy, too cute for Louis’ sanity, telling Louis that someone had been enchanted by him wasn’t even close to being on the list.

Louis relives his visit in his head the rest of his day, looking for signs that Harry is his admirer and wondering if he’s reading too much into everything when he finds them. It’s strange because when Louis thinks of the possibility, there’s a fluttering in his chest where he swore there was nothing left to flutter.

It had been several months since his breakup when the flowers first started appearing, but the pain had still been fresh. Each morning Louis had woken up to the sharp agony of his heart breaking all over again as he’d opened his eyes to a flat that was still new to him, boxes still waiting to be unpacked. But now, as it flutters at the possibility of something new, there’s still pain but it’s dulled. An ache rather than a searing reminder of what he’s lost.

After making himself a frozen dinner for one, an activity that still feels a little like a cruel reminder of his failures, Louis sits down at a table meant for two and eats in silence. The quiet scraping of his utensils used to get to him, filling the quiet that used to be filled with chatter, but today it doesn’t bother him because his mind is somewhere else. It’s on the boxes scattered around his flat.

He’d already opened some boxes when he’d returned home, searching for a glass to keep his latest flower in. He’d left the rest at the café but this one was too lovely to leave behind. And now it reminds him of Harry, the way his cheek had dimpled when he’d smiled, the quiet intensity when he’d promised to remember Louis’ name.

Louis cleans up after himself when he’s done eating and then walks into his living room. There are so many boxes, half his life stored in such fragile containers. He kneels in front of the closest one and bends forward to open it. It’s time to let the past go and accept that there’s no going back. He’s moving forward now.

 

@}-------

 

“What?” Louis asks when he catches Niall looking at him funny for the umpteenth time.

“Nothing,” Niall says with a shrug but there’s a smile on his face that Louis can’t help but respond to.

Louis smiles, turning back to making the ombre pink drink that someone has ordered and trying to ignore the way he can still feel Niall glancing at him every few minutes. He woke up in a good mood this morning, his flat empty of boxes and a feeling of lightness in his bones. He knows Niall is just surprised by the change in his demeanor so he tries not to let it affect him.

“Susette,” he calls when the drink is done, placing it on the counter for pick-up and nodding politely at the woman who picks it up. He glances at the flower in his vase today. It’s pink and orange and absolutely beautiful but he has no idea what it is. Maybe he’ll stop by the flower shop after work and ask Harry. He grins again, feeling that fluttery sensation in his chest at the thought.

 

@}-------

 

Harry hadn’t been sure if he should send another flower that morning, afraid of being too obvious after Louis had come to visit his shop. After fretting over it for a little too long, he’d decided he was being ridiculous. It doesn’t matter if he’s being obvious. The flowers aren’t for him, they’re for Louis. To make him happy. Harry’s crush is not a part of that equation.

Harry is helping an older man when he hears the bells on his door chime. “I’ll be right with you,” he calls without looking.

“This is very important,” the older gentleman tells Harry again. “I need to make a good impression. It’s our first date in twenty-five years.”

That makes Harry smile. “Are you reuniting after a long time apart or trying to bring back the romance into a long relationship?”

“Son, I just ran into her again a few days ago,” The man tells Harry, grasping his shoulder as though he’s trying to get through to Harry just how monumental that is. “She’s still as beautiful as ever.”

Harry is such a sap, he can feel his eyes tearing up. “Okay,” he says, blinking away the tide of emotion as he moves to his rose selection. “We’re gonna make you an amazing bouquet, I promise.  So, first, white roses symbolize a new beginning,” He says, grabbing a couple and holding them as he moves to the next color. “Pink, stands for happiness and gentleness.” He grabs a couple of those, too. “And orange,” he says, reaching for two beautiful orange roses. He’s made sure to pick the best of the bunch for their bouquet. “Orange symbolizes desire and enthusiasm.”

He arranges the flowers to spread out the color and then hands them to the older gentleman for his approval.

“Do you like that?” Harry asks, a nervous anticipation in his belly. He wants to make everything perfect for this couple that’s getting a second chance at love.

“It’s beautiful,” the man answers with a watery smile. “She’ll love it.”

“Excellent,” Harry cheers. “Let me wrap that up for you.”

He takes the flowers back and rolls them in wax tissue paper at the checkout counter, embellishing it with a pretty bow before ringing up the sale. He only charges the man for three roses instead of a bouquet of six and wishes him good luck on his way out of the shop.

He smiles at the gentleman’s back, feeling at peace with his place in the universe, helping spread love all around. He’s all but forgotten his other customer until his eyes land on him, the beautiful boy watching him with a softness in his gaze.

“Louis,” Harry breathes, surprised to see him again so soon.

Louis grins, eyes cast down to the flower in his hands. “You remembered.”

“I said I would,” Harry reminds him gently.

“You did, yeah” Louis nods, raising his gaze just enough to look at Harry through long, heavenly lashes. “Do you know the meanings behind all of the flowers in here?”

“Every single one,” Harry answers with a shrug, wishing he didn’t feel so awkward in the face of such exquisiteness. “It kind of goes with the territory.”

“Do you know what this one means?” Louis asks, stepping up to the counter and laying down the flower he’s been holding.

“I do,” Harry says, studying the flower he’d picked so carefully that morning. “It’s an Alstroemeria. And it could mean wealth, someone wishing prosperity for whoever they’re giving it to. Or it could represent friendship.”

“Hmmm,” Louis hums, watching Harry with that same light that had sparked in them when they’d last met. “While I could use a little prosperity, I’m sort of hoping it means friendship. Another shoulder to lean on is always nice.”

“Someone gave it to you?” Harry asks. He can tell himself that he doesn’t care if Louis knows the flowers are from him all he wants, but that doesn’t make it true. He’s afraid of Louis knowing the truth and being disappointed. Afraid of all those beautiful flowers suddenly being tainted by regret.

Louis simply smiles coyly and picks his flower back up like he can’t bear to part with it as he walks over to the roses, studying them before turning back to Harry. “So, correct me if my math is wrong but shouldn’t you have charged that man double what he paid?”

Harry almost doesn’t hear, too busy feeling irrationally relieved that Louis didn’t want to leave the Alstroemeria behind. “What? Oh, um, yeah,” Harry answers, feeling discombobulated by the rollercoaster of his emotions. He shakes it off to explain himself. “I mean, did you hear? He was going on a second first date with someone he hadn’t seen for 25 years. I had to. He still has to pay for dinner and everything. I didn’t want expensive flowers to get in the way of them having an amazing night.”

If it’s possible, Louis’ eyes seem to sparkle even more. “That’s lovely, Harry. But won’t you get in trouble with your manager?”

“Oh, um. No, that... last time, that was a joke. I don’t actually have a manager. I, uh, I kind of own this place,” Harry stutters, running a hand through his hair to try and cover how flustered he is. He’s not used to telling people. He spends all of his time in his flower shop or alone in his flat, he doesn’t really have anyone to tell anyway.

“Oh,” Louis seems thoughtful as he studies Harry and all Harry can do is stand there and will himself to keep behaving normally. “That must be nice, making up your own rules, being in a position to help make people happy without restrictions.”

“I guess,” Harry says because he’s not sure what else to say.

“Can you help me pick a flower for someone?”

The question is so sudden that it catches Harry by surprise. “Yeah. Sure. Um, who is it for?”

“A new friend,” Louis answers with an easy smile.

Is he…? Is he talking about Harry? And if he is, is it flowershop Harry or secret admirer Harry because he’s not sure how Louis could possibly be planning to get a flower to his secret admirer.

“Okay, so what do you want the flower to say?” Harry asks, instead of dwelling on logistics.

“Thank you,” Louis says and it feels like he’s saying it directly to Harry.

“Um.” Harry blinks and turns to look around his shop. It takes a second to focus his eyes and his mind. He’s supposed to be working right now. He needs to remember that. “It kind of depends on what you’re saying thank you for.” He moves across his shop to point out each flower as he explains their symbolism. He moves confidently, in his element now. “Sweet peas say ‘thank you for a lovely time’. Hydrangeas say ‘thank you for understanding’, Campanula’s say just a simple ‘thank you’ if that’s what you’re going for. Also, Azaleas, pink carnations, and pink or peach roses show general gratitude. If you want to say thank you, you have plenty of choices.” He ends with a smirk. He loves what he does and it helps that he knows he’s good at it.

“What’s your favorite?” Louis wonders casually, staring at a blue Campanula, seeming engrossed in it’s bell-like shape.

“Well,” Harry isn’t quite sure how to answer. What if Louis buys his favorite? What will that mean? Maybe he’s just seeking the opinion of a professional. “I guess, I don’t really think anything tops the beauty or grace of a rose.”

Louis glances at Harry over his shoulder. “Pink or peach?”

“I, uh. Personally, I like pink.”

Louis hums to himself and then nods like the decision is made. He goes to the refrigerator that houses the roses and opens it, taking a moment to make sure he gets the most perfect of the pink roses. And then he walks over to the hydrangeas and takes one of those too. “I’ll take these, please,” he says, laying them on the counter, making certain to keep his flower separate.

With a dry throat, Harry rings up the flowers and accepts Louis’ money. “Do you want me wrap them?” Harry asks but Louis shakes his head with a ‘no, thank you’ and then Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes off the flowers as Louis picks up the hydrangea with mirth crinkling his eyes.

“Thank you, Harry,” Louis says, taking his two flowers, not three like he should have, to the door.

“But you…” Harry calls, lifting up the pink rose.

Louis doesn’t say anything at the sight of Harry holding up the rose, he just smiles and winks at Harry as he pushes his way out of the shop.

“I… you’re welcome,” Harry whispers, carefully cradling his flower to his chest, unsure what it means but certain it means something.

When he goes to tape a flower to the door of the café in the morning, he finds the hydrangea already there with a note attached.

‘To the person leaving me beautiful flowers and lovely words,

thank you for understanding what I needed. Mission accomplished. You’ve got me smiling.’

Harry stares at the words on the paper until they blur together. He’s not sure what to feel. He feels elated that he was able to make Louis happy, but it’s a hollow joy because the note sort of sounds like a goodbye. Like a ‘thanks but I don’t need you anymore’.

Harry’s chest aches as he carefully peels the flower off the door. He looks down at the flower he’d brought with him, wondering if he should still leave it. If Louis doesn’t want them anymore, he doesn’t want to push them on him. It’s kind of ironic, given the flower Harry’s chosen.

“Is that for me?”

Harry jumps at the unexpected voice on the dark, quiet street, spinning around with his hand clasped to his chest. “Louis.” Harry chokes out, “what are you—?”

“Catching my secret admirer in the act, I think,” Louis says before Harry can even finish the question. He steps forward and gently takes the blue flower Harry brought for him from Harry’s hand. “What’s this one?”

“Um,” Harry coughs to clear his throat. “A forget-me-not.”

Louis’ eyes shoot from the flower to Harry’s eyes immediately. “And does the name say it all? Or does it mean something else?”

“It— Yes, it means don’t forget me but also…” Harry trails off. He’s not sure if he should say the rest. His crush on Louis has gotten totally out of hand without his consent.

“Also what?” Louis prods gently, taking a step closer.

Harry swallows but refuses to look at him. It’s still dark out because they both go into work ridiculously early, though Harry’s reasons for doing so are probably not so normal. The truth is, he’s been lonely. And he didn’t start leaving Louis flowers with any ulterior motive but over time, it had started to make Harry feel a little less alone.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, almost like he can see how fragile Harry is feeling right now, or maybe he feels the same and he’s afraid of breaking them both with loud noises or harsh tones. His tone is urgent, like he needs to know the answer. Harry burns with the need to say it.

“Hope.” Harry exhales finally. “It stands for hope.”

“Hope,” Louis repeats and the word falls from his lips like a prayer.

Harry raises his gaze and Louis gazes back, a smile on his lips. Harry can’t read anything in that smile though. His eyes are watery and unfocused. He’s just confessed to Louis everything in that one small word.

“Thank you, Harry,” Louis says softly, “for giving me hope when I had none. And being a friend when I didn’t know I needed one.”

Harry nods, acknowledging Louis’ words. He can’t bring himself to say ‘you’re welcome’ or ‘goodbye’. And goodbye is increasingly what this feels like. His throat is so tight and words seem out of his reach. If he opens his mouth, he knows that all that will come out are wracking sobs at what he’s losing. He takes a step backwards, preparing himself to turn away, to walk to his flower shop and let that be the end of it. It’s going to hurt like hell, but if that’s what Louis wants, he’ll do it.

 

<@>

 

“Do you want to come in?” Louis asks when it seems like Harry is about to walk away, his words coming out fast, and he wonders if Harry can hear the desperation in them.

Harry freezes in place, his whole body going taut with tension. Is it apprehension or anticipation?

“Do you want me to?” Harry questions, eyes trailing over every inch of Louis’ face. His gaze is full of yearning and Louis’ heart beats faster because of it. Anticipation, then.

“Yeah,” Louis answers quickly. Harry appears as hesitant to walk away as Louis is desperate to keep him from it. “I really do. You can keep me company until we open and I’ll even make you a drink. On the house.”

“Won’t you get into trouble?” Harry asks, though there’s a smile taking over his face that Louis is slowly falling in love with.

Louis shrugs carelessly. “Some things are more important.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Louis feels a warmth filling his chest as Harry smiles at him. It gets warmer when he takes a step closer to Harry and Harry doesn’t move away. And it burns bright as the sun when he presses his lips to Harry’s cheek. “Like hope.”

Harry enters the café with him when Louis unlocks the door but it feels like more than a simple gesture, it feels like something epic between them. It feels like Louis’ unlocked his heart and opened the door, laying the key in Harry’s hands and offering to let Harry to make a home inside. It feels like broken things being mended and impossible things becoming possible. And if that isn’t hope, Louis doesn’t know what is.

  


 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
